Clean-up
by Batsutousai
Summary: No one ever said living with a part-time supervillain would be easy.


**Title:** _Clean-up_  
 **Fandom:** _Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood_ /manga  
 **Author:** Batsutousai  
 **Rating:** Mature  
 **Pairings:** Edward Elric/Greedling, Edward Elric/Ling Yao  
 **Warnings:** Superheroes/supervillains AU, Ed's potty mouth  
 **Summary:** No one ever said living with a part-time supervillain would be _easy_.

 **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Arakawa Hiromu and various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

 **A/N:** For FMA Rarepair Week on tumblr. Today's prompts included _Superpowers/Heroes and Villains_ and _"Clean up your own mess!"_

Is it cheating to technically have two ships in one fic, if two of the characters share a body? WHO FUCKING KNOWS! *cackles her way into the sunset*

You can also read this at Archive of Our Own, tumblr, or LiveJournal.

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Ed didn't even both to change out of his costume – which, if he was being honest, was because it made him feel more important than his everyday clothing, not that his target cared about that – just stopped at the end of the hallway, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited with his best scowl for the door of their flat to open.

He didn't have long to wait.

"I'm _starved_!" his roommate called as he stepped in, announcing himself to be Ling.

"Let me talk to him," Ed ordered as the door fell shut behind Ling.

Ling blinked at him. "You're seriously standing in view of the door in–"

"Ling," Ed interrupted, narrowing his eyes and straightening to his full height. "Let. Me. Talk. To. Him."

Ling sighed, but obediently closed his eyes, tossing out a petulant, "But I'm _hungry_ ," before falling utterly still.

And then his face split wide with a cruel smile, and his eyes were the colour of wine when they opened. "You called, Fullmetal?" he purred, even the cadence of his voice different. Silkier. Like he thought _charm_ would get him out of this one.

Ed had seen this change dozens of times since he discovered his spoiled Xingan roommate's alternate personality was Greed, a member of the Ouroboros, the group of villains set on causing nothing but trouble for the people of Central City. He really should have turned Greed in right then and there, but it had taken him _months_ to find a roommate who didn't care about his weird hours, or the fact that he regularly came home sporting bruises or cuts, and he couldn't afford to live in the city on his own while he searched for another one. (There was also that minor issue of his crush on Ling, and the fact that he'd been about seventy percent certain, at the time, that Ling reciprocated. Which, well, that shouldn't have affected Ed's decision, not when he was supposed to be a paragon of good and justice, but he was only human, so it sort of had.)

Instead of turning him in, he'd done his best to turn Greed to the side of good, which only worked about half the time, usually when his help meant saving a relatively large number of civilians. But when it came to property damage–

"Do you have _any_ idea how long it took me to get out of that building?" Ed snarled, unfolding his arms so he could point his automail hand at the arsehole.

Greed's smile was utterly unconcerned. "Not _that_ long, if you managed to beat me back."

"I almost got dragged into the clean-up by that fucker, Mustang!" Ed shot back, only barely stopping himself from shouting and annoying one of their neighbours. "Do you have _any_ idea how tedious cleaning up buildings is?"

Greed just shrugged, still smiling, and started prowling forward a bit.

"Of _course_ you don't!" Ed continued, throwing his hands up and turning away. "I forgot who I was talking to. _Just once_ , I wish one of the two of you would clean up your messes, instead of leaving it for other people! We're not your servants!"

Arms wrapped around his waist, and Greed purred in his ear, "I know a mess I'd be _happy_ to clean up, Fullmetal." And then a hand was kneading his crotch, the flexible fabric of his suit no hindrance.

Ed did his best to muffle any embarrassing sounds, mostly succeeded, and somehow managed to rasp out, "Takeout on the table."

"Really?!" called what was very clearly Ling, and a wet kiss was pressed to the hinge of Ed's jaw, then Ling was hurrying past him, nearly _bouncing_.

Ed drooped back against the doorway, closing his eyes and trying to will his erection away. Which, well, worked about as well as it always did – there was something _seriously_ wrong with him for getting turned on by a super villain, even if he _was_ only a part-time one – and then he went to change, because they did, sort of, have rules about wearing their costumes in the flat.

By the time Ed made it to the kitchen, Ling had surrounded about half of his portion – so, about a normal person's serving, not that Ed could talk – and he paused in the act of biting into his burger to watch Ed ease himself down into his seat, his bruised ribs shouting a reminder that he needed to _not_ flop down into the chair like he usually did. "You're hurt?" Ling asked quietly. Not quite _ashamed_ , not _yet_.

"It's funny how having a building dropped on your head tends to result in more than a couple bruises," Ed retorted flatly.

When he looked up, it wasn't Ling watching him, but _Greed_ , wine eyes sharp. "You should be thanking me," he said, his tone just as flat as Ed's had been.

"Why?" Ed snapped, unimpressed. "Is dropping buildings on people some sort of fucked-up villain courting–?"

"If you'd kept pushing him, Envy would have transformed and crushed the building across the street."

Ed choked, feeling cold, because the building across the street had been the automail clinic his best friend worked at. He'd been in there for a maintenance check-up when he'd seen Envy and Greed snooping around the bank across the street, and while he might have left it alone for Greed and any of the others, he and Envy had...history. _Bad_ history; ruining his plans was the sort of thing that always made Ed's day.

As far as Ed and Greed could tell, none of the other Ouroboros had connected Ed's superhero and civilian identities (yet), so Envy had probably just been aiming for that building because there were people inside; it was no secret that Ed would risk his own life to protect a civilian – especially kids and other amputees – which made that the perfect target.

"Thank you," he choked out, because he wasn't so proud as to deny Greed that when he went and protected someone Ed cared about.

Greed snorted and picked the burger he'd set down back up, and then it was Ling looking out through black eyes, his smile apologetic, but still with an edge of concern.

Ed waved a hand at him. "Whatever. I've had worse."

Which, well, he _had_. At Greed's hands, even, back before they'd developed their occasional alliance. Broken bones, internal bleeding, arm turned to scrap metal...

Bruised ribs were a plenty acceptable trade for Winry's safety.

Ling, of course, didn't look particularly soothed by that, but he returned to polishing off his share of their dinner, then threw out all the rubbish, which was about as much cleaning up as he ever did.

Once he'd finished his own dinner, Ed retired to his room, because he was tired, after the rough day, and really just wanted to lay in bed, reading until he fell asleep.

Which, well, Ling followed him into his room, of course, and stepped forward to start unbuttoning Ed's shirt before he could manage more than, " _Ling_ –"

"Shut up," Ling ordered in that haughty tone of voice he'd had since before they'd met, his eyes intent on Ed's chest.

"Not in the mood for sex right now," Ed pointed out, because, sometimes, he had to spell these things out; one of the dangers of his lover housing a villain called 'Greed', evidentially.

Ling flashed him a heated look. "Not even me riding you?"

That–

Ed caught himself licking his lips, then scowled at the victorious grin Ling put on. "You're a pain in my arse."

"Not tonight!" Ling sang out. But then his expression fell, creasing with concern, as he pushed Ed's shirt out of the way and discovered the darkening bruise peeking out from under the chest plate of his automail and trailing down his side. (Because Winry's work could totally catch large chunks of falling masonry without breaking, but that didn't keep the impact from ramming the steel into his side and bruising the fuck out of his delicate flesh parts.)

"It's not as bad as it looks," Ed insisted. Because, as much as he enjoyed giving Greed hell for his carelessness, he didn't actually care for the broken edge Ling's expression always took on when he discovered the damage his alternate self had left on Ed's body.

Ling kissed him, then started gently pushing him back toward his bed. Ed huffed a bit, but let himself be directed back, lying down on the bed and watching as Ling finished undressing him, then repositioned himself on the bed as the idiot took off his own clothing.

But, when Ling got onto the bed, sitting astride Ed's abdomen, he didn't reach for the lube or condoms, but held up one hand between them, staring at it as black bled into being over it.

"Ling, _no_ ," Ed tried, and he really should have just kicked Ling out right at the start, because he _always did this_.

Ling caught his eyes – black with a sparkle of wine, like Greed was peering out at him, too – and held his gaze as he cut open his own chest with one carbon-tipped claw, the sparking of red light finally drawing Ed's eyes to the glow of red where a human heart should have been. There was no blood – there was _never_ any blood, because the Philosopher's Stone didn't allow it – just the crackle of red energy as Ling's body tried, desperately, to close the wound back up. "Do it," Ling ordered, a rough note of not-quite-pain in his voice.

Ed wanted to refuse, but he knew the quickest way to make Ling stop hurting himself was to reach up and close his eyes, let the impossible energy of the Stone arc through him, healing his ribs and the half-dozen other small bruises and cuts left over from the day's adventure.

As he drew his hand away, body buzzing with leftover energy, Ling finally let go, and his chest sealed up without a mark to show he'd ever cut it open.

"Hate it when you do that," Ed gasped, staring up into Ling's eyes. Still black with hints of wine.

"Just cleaning up our mess," Ling murmured, then leant in and caught Ed's mouth in a hungry kiss.

Ed grabbed handfuls of black hair and yanked, trying to gain control of the kiss, because that was really the only possible response to Ling's idiocy.

.


End file.
